na: blank blue, firewater, matmos

Everything from gurgling electronic music to buoyant kiddie pop hits the racks at eMusic today — here’s a spin through some of the notable titles!

Nobody Presents Blank Blue, Western Water Music Vol. II: So I’m going to frontload and hard-rep this one, because I’ve been playing it pretty solid for about a month now. Nobody is the alias of producer Elvin Estela. He’s made a bunch of eerie and vaguely psychedelic records on his own for a while now, which I’ve liked just fine, but WWMII (as I’ve decided it should be abbreviated) suckerpunched harder and longer than any of his solo work has. On this one, Nobody teams up with vocalist Niki Randa to create songs that fall fairly close to the kind of milky mood pieces perfected by the Cocteau Twins. WWMII is a concept record: something about an earthquake and the end of civilization, poisonous mushrooms and killer whirlpools (for more on that, see Hua Hsu’s eMusic review). For me, the record plays like a 45-minute dream — gauzy bands of sound, lightly rolling percussion and Randa’s spirit-like voice. It’s a record about mood, mostly, and fans of the haunting and the vaguely ominous should find much here to enjoy. It’s my pick of the week.

The Long Blondes, Couples: Not sure where to begin with this one. I loved the last LB record (as my glowing eMu review attests), but Couples is a pretty radical departure. A collaboration with dance producer Erol Alkan, Couples is a lot more dependent on synthetic rhythms, neon-like synths and twitchy guitars. It’s really not for me, I’m sad to say, but Anna, our UK Editor, is a big fan, so I’m hoping she chimes in to stick up for it.

Barneaked Ladies, Snacktime: I’m tempted to quote Kristina Feliciano’s eMusic review in full here, because I think she makes a great case for this record. This is the BNL’s first foray into children’s music and…well, I’ll let Kristina take over from there:

Though BNL are beloved by many — the band has been going strong for some 20 years — to me, they’re a little annoying. But it turns out that what seems corny in records aimed at adults is actually super-charming in the context of a kids’ disc. On Snacktime, BNL’s first foray into music making for ankle biters, the Canadian quintet combine kidly goofiness with parental teachiness — as well as their own undeniable gift for spinning winning melodies — and wind up coming across as the cleverest thing ever. Any form of children’s entertainment that activates the imagination is aces in my book, and Snacktime excels in this area… Packing 24 tracks in just under 55 minutes, Snacktime changes its tune often enough to keep young ones’ attention from drifting. How to explain the band’s name, though, is all on you.

Edith Piaf, La Vie en Rose: A great introduction to the legendary French vocalist. eMusic’s Elisabeth Vincentelli explains:

Despite the absence of “Milord” and “Non, je ne regrette rien,” this compilation makes for a good intro to Piaf, starting off with 1936’s “Les mômes de la cloche” (her first record) and “J’suis mordue,” on which the 21 year-old singer already shows the miraculous gift of empathy that makes her sound as if she’s carrying all the sorrows of the world on her shoulders. Piaf could shine in a romantic mode (“J’m’en fous pas mal,” “Les amants de Paris”) or be downright playful (“Rien de rien”), but she was at her best singing on the beautiful anguish of love or depicting fate’s cruelest twists with sad resignation. Like Judy Garland in America, Piaf was drug-addled and unlucky in love: a bottled tragedy. But what she poured out on stage was nothing less than life itself.

Matmos, Supreme Balloon: Visionary sound architects Matmos return with another collection of exquisitely cobbled-together pop. eMusic’s Michaelangelo Matos holds forth:

Drew Daniel and M.C. Schmidt, a.k.a. the electronic duo Matmos, have probably sampled your mom. Why not? They’ve sampled everything else: a cow’s uterus, shuffled cards, latex fetishwear, stepped-on rock salt and semen hitting paper, to limit it to five. [On Supreme Balloon] Daniel and Schmidt leave the concepts behind and stick entirely to analog synthesizers, inviting along a number of guests (Sun Ra vet Marshall Allen, fellow Wire-mag regular Keith Fullerton Whitman, classical pianist Sarah Cahill) and tweaking everything till it’s indubitably Matmos.

16 Horsepower, Live 2001 I used to be crazy in love for 16 Horsepower — the fire & brimstone lyrics, the thundering scorched-earth country, the unholy power of David Eugene Edwards voice. They were like Swans to me before I knew who Swans were. This live set from 2001 captures the band at the peak of their primal power. For one thing, it contains the magnificent “Clogger,” its tension and anxiety ratcheted all the way up. The other songs are just as good, though; this is gothic music for people who thought they outgrew gothic music. Not as good as the still unfuckwithable Low Estate, but still mighty mighty.

Firewater, The Golden Hour: Firewater is back with the stylistic smorgasbord that has made them so beloved. This one mixes western twang with world music for songs that are ragged and one-of-a-kind.

A pair of singles, one from Black Moth Super Rainbow, which sounds like an acid-drenched Daft Punk, and one from My Brightest Diamond, which is as light and lovely as her last record. It took me a while to come around on MBD, but there’s something about her melancholy voice and that hits my secret Tori Amos soft spot.

Impossible Shapes, 9 An all-free advance teaser for the forthcoming Impossible Shapes record. This should make fans of Bodies of Water and recent-vintage Flaming Lips very happy. Lots of upper-register singing, some gang choruses, some orchestration.

Sascha Funke, Mango: Where’s Todd when you need him? This is the kind of situation where I just write about how much I love mangoes. The fruit. Seriously, though: Funke is good enough at what he does that even dance neophytes like myself can dig his songs. Todd can elaborate on the specifics of this better than I ever could, but Mango seems to boast more of what Funke does well: low, thumping beats, slightly ominous washes of synths and songs that build and build and build instead of detonating outright. Man, that was some of the worst dance writing ever.